Progression
by Radon65
Summary: After the events of The Girl in the Fireplace, the Doctor grieves privately for Reinette, questioning himself and his impact on his companions' lives. He receives a vote of confidence from an unexpected source, and Mickey starts to see what life in the TARDIS really means for him.


**Progression**

Orange skies grew redder as the temperature rose; ships glowed hot before they burst into flame; the planet burned and explosions wreaked havoc as the sun crumbled to dust before his eyes...

The Doctor woke in a cold sweat, his mind disoriented and his nerves on edge. For a moment, he was still back on the battlefield; then the TARDIS's soothing hum crept into his thoughts and he returned with relief to reality. He sighed bitterly as he sat up in bed, unsure of what to do. He'd hardly had such dreams since he'd last regenerated, and Rose had been a help to his mind almost since she first came on board. Lately he'd taken to sleeping four hours every few days - it was restful, and it gave him less time rattling around the TARDIS by himself when Rose was asleep. Make that Rose and Mickey, now. The latter had only been on board a couple of days, and he'd done all right so far. Helped out well enough with the clockwork robots.

The Doctor groaned and punched his pillow as he thought of Reinette. She'd been a such a strong person, so kind and brave and full of life - reminded him of Rose, really, albeit a 16th century version. He hadn't known her long, in linear time, but she'd been special to him. Mulling over the events of the past day, he came to the conclusion that his nightmare must have stemmed from losing her. He drew patterns on the blankets with his finger and allowed himself a small sob. The TARDIS hummed in sympathy.

He cracked a half smile at her concern, then sighed again and flicked off the small amount of wetness that had accumulated on his cheeks. No point in sitting in bed crying to himself. He was thirsty anyway - might as well have a cuppa. Then maybe he'd tinker in the console room - the TARDIS's scanning circuitry had been just a bit out of alignment lately. Giving the wall behind him an affectionate pat, he heaved himself out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown.

He wandered down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen, in no great hurry to arrive. He took a deep breathe of the warm air circulating inside his ship, reassuring himself of reality. He grinned as the temperature reminded him of his human companions. Such heat was for them - not that it was a concern for him, but if he'd been by himself the TARDIS wouldn't have bothered to raise the temperature so high.

The reminder of his companions was both a blessing and a bane - their presence reminded him that he was not alone, but at the same time he grieved for having missed Reinette. What would it have been like, having the three of them on board? He rarely indulged in so many companions, particularly since Mickey too had just joined, but Reinette was so brilliant that Rose and Mickey would have gotten along with her, and she probably wouldn't have stayed too long, anyway. He could have at least taken her to -

The door he'd been walking past suddenly opened, knocking him off balance and sending him reeling into the opposite wall. He narrowly avoided tumbling head over heels as his quick reflexes kicked in. Only slightly dazed, he glanced up to determine the identity of his assailant.

"Oh, Doctor, sorry about that. You all right?" Mickey extended a hand in apology. The Doctor waived the assistance, righting himself with a small grin.

"Mickey! What are you doing about at this hour? Well, 'sides opening doors onto people." Mickey frowned uncertainly.

"It is all right me being out like this, isn't it?" he asked. "Rose said we could go anywhere we wanted - if we weren't supposed to go in, the TARDIS wouldn't let us."

"Oh, yeah, no, 's fine." The Doctor shrugged off the human's concerns. "Just wondered what you were up to. Couldn't sleep?"

"Still gettin' used to sleepin' in this place. Don't get me wrong, it's fine, it's just different than home, you know?"

"Yes," the Doctor replied, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "I suppose I do know." Gallifrey was gone. But the TARDIS had been his true home for centuries, and he'd not live elsewhere for anything. Mickey scratched above his ear and glanced around the hallway, unsure of what to say next.

"So what're you up for then, if you don't mind me asking?" The Doctor smiled cheerfully.

"Oh, didn't Rose tell you? I don't need much sleep. I'm up lots of times while she's sleeping."

"Really?"

"Yep." Mickey paused again, uncertain of how to react to this revelation.

"So... you off to play solitaire or what?" The Doctor shook his head.

"Just going for a cuppa." Nodding a goodbye to Mickey, he set off down the hallway again.

"Wait a minute!" The Doctor paused and Mickey caught up with him. "Is it all right if I come, too? I haven't had a good cuppa since we started out." Inwardly, the Doctor grimaced. What he really wanted right now was to be alone, have time to organize his thoughts and quell his pain. But Mickey was his companion, and he had a responsibility to the the people he brought on board, whether it was saving their lives, or just indulging them in a little whim every now and then. 'Sides, Mickey was new and he didn't want to offend the bloke. Maybe the company would do him good. So he relented.

"Sure. Come along, then."

Mickey made small conversation on the way to the kitchen, mentioning a few of the rooms he'd seen and comparing them to stuff he'd watched on the telly. The Doctor listened with half an ear, muttering a response every now and then. He'd turned mostly inwards, trying to understand the loss of Reinette and the memories it had reawakened. It always hurt to lose someone. Sometimes not even right away, but the pain always came at some point, tugging at the back of his mind, threatening to drown him in its sour tears.

_Everything has its time and everything dies_.

It was true, and he used that maxim as a source of comfort. Nothing could live forever - not even him, not even the TARDIS. That was simply how life worked.

But...

Why did some people have to die as they did - why could someone could be with you one moment and then be torn away the next? Oh yes, nothing could live forever - if it did, the universe would get awfully boring and crowded, but still, grief was hard, and no one, least of all he, had the answer. He supposed the best thing to do was be glad that he'd had Reinette, even if it was for a brief span of time. That he'd had Gallifrey, even if he hadn't spent much time there. But the pain of missing them was almost more than he could bear. He swallowed hard to avoid a sob and gritted his teeth, determined to save the reaction for later. Wouldn't do to break down in front of Mickey. Mickey. By the by...

"Doctor? Is this it?"

"Er, what?" The Doctor shook himself from his stupor and squinted at the door. "Oh, right. Yes. Sorry about that, Mickey, I drifted." He pushed the door open and strode in. "Yeah, this is it." He reached for the kettle where it sat on the counter and filled it with water from the sink. Adding a pinch of tanish powder, he gave the water a quick stir and set the kettle to boil. Turning back around, he found Mickey looking at the kettle curiously.

"What was that stuff you just put in?"

"Oh." The Doctor moved to another cupboard to rummage for cups or mugs. "Tanish powder. Just a little something from Karalas Major. Flavor thing, sort of a sweetener - well, flavor-er. I let Rose try it once in tea and she liked it so much I generally just go straight to putting it in the water. Hope you don't mind." Mickey shrugged, fingering the table.

"Don't see as I ought to mind. Maybe I'll like it, too."

"That's the spirit!" The Doctor brought a couple of mugs to the table and handed one over to Mickey. Mickey examined the mug the Doctor had chosen for him. It was dark blue, with a picture on it of a - Mickey laughed.

"This is from Star Trek!" The Doctor flashed him a smile.

"Thought you might enjoy something from home." Mickey set the mug down on the table as the kettle whistled and the Doctor stepped over to get it. A picture of the _Enterprise_, from the original series, adorned the side of the mug.

"S'pose this sort of thing must be kid stuff to you." The Doctor brought the kettle over and a couple of tea bags.

"Not really, no. Although Gene did get a bit whimsical sometimes, changed things around to make it more interesting..." Mickey stared at him, trying to determine whether or not he was kidding.

"What? Are you sayin'...?" The Doctor grinned.

"Sugar in your tea, Mickey?" Mickey shook his head, partly in incredulity.

"No, thanks. Not if there's already that other stuff in."

"It's not really that sweet." Mickey shook his head again.

"'S fine." The Doctor shrugged, fixing up the tea and adding some sugar to his own. His mug was dark too, a very dark green with a chip at the top and silver etchings spread across the side. They seemed to form a picture, but Mickey couldn't make out what it was before the Doctor's hand covered it. Mickey swirled the tea in his own mug and took a careful sip, just barely avoiding burning his tongue on the hot liquid. He was surprised at just how good it was, considering he'd never tasted anything quite like it before. The Doctor was right, it was only sort of sweet, but at the same time it rolled over his tongue in a subtle sense of flavor, sort of like... like... Mickey found himself at a loss to compare it to anything else.

"This is brilliant," he said suddenly. The Doctor smiled.

"Glad you like it."

"No wonder Rose likes it so much. I don't know if I'll be able to go back to ordinary tea after this." Mickey paused at what he had just said. _Ordinary tea_. Ordinary life. He'd begun to understand why Rose said she couldn't come back to an ordinary life, but especially, after today... He glanced up at the Doctor, who seemed intent upon drinking down all of his tea at once, despite the obvious heat emanating from his mug. "So you, uh..." Mickey cleared his throat and tried again. "You don't get burned or what?" The Doctor set his tea down and raised his head.

"What? Oh, no. I can get burned, but not at this temperature. Not very hot, this tea." He tried to pay more attention to Mickey, but he was distracted. Perhaps allowing the bloke to come along to tea had been a bad idea. He remembered a particular time he had been burned, with the temperature far worse than this. The console had been smoking, sparks flying from the ceiling, the atmosphere itself barely tolerable. He'd fought to get the fans on and adjust the flight, but half the circuitry was in ruins, and one of the dimensional stabilizers had melted.

He remembered leaning against the console to offer the TARDIS his strength, his mind in tatters, the hot metal searing his flesh. He'd hung on for a moment, despite the pain, and the TARDIS had been able to alter the atmosphere enough for him. He'd been smoking himself when he let go, the console screen crackling to life to show him a scene out of his worst nightmares... The Doctor shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and holding onto his mug in a desperate attempt to ground himself in reality.

"Doctor?" Mickey's voice broke in on his morbid thoughts. He looked up and took a drink of tea, trying to wipe the pain of the memories from his face. "Oi, you all right?" The Doctor swallowed hard and gave the same answer he'd offered earlier.

"I'm always all right." This time, however, it didn't seem to take. Mickey shook his head.

"No. No, you're not. Something happened to you today - we both saw it. It's about her, isn't it?" The Doctor shuddered again involuntarily, trying to figure out a way to redirect the conversation.

"Look, if you're talking about Rose I -"

"I'm not talkin' about Rose," Mickey interrupted. "She was hurt, yeah, when you left us, but you had to. There wasn't any other choice - she said so herself. I'm talkin' about Reinette." The Doctor dropped his eyes.

"Mickey, this really isn't something I'd like to discuss."

"What happened?" Mickey persisted. "She say she didn't want to travel with you or something? Tell you she was weirded out 'cause you're alien?"

"No!" the Doctor answered, more forcefully than he'd intended. "No, she..." he trailed off, grimacing in pain. Mickey waited patiently, and the Doctor sighed, staring down into his mug. "Mickey, she died." Mickey was perplexed.

"But, you stopped the robots, didn't you? I thought you said they'd given up." The Doctor shook his head, not raising his eyes.

"They did. She died of sickness, at the proper age, just how she was supposed to."

"But she was fine when you left her, wasn't she? How could -"

"The time portals weren't stable, Mickey!" the Doctor practically snapped. "Remember?" His companion paused, thinking.

"Oh. Yeah."

"I knew it." The Doctor looked morosely into his tea. "I _knew_ they weren't stable, but I left her. I left her to find you two, give her some time to pack." He snorted bitterly. "She didn't need to pack! She could have come with me right then. But I was excited, I told her to choose a star, I just didn't _think_...!" The Doctor's fingers tightened around his mug convulsively, his tea threatening to spill as he jarred it. "And she waited for me, Mickey," he went on. "She waited for years, and I never came back. Just like I did to Sarah Jane, except..." He swallowed hard and scrubbed a hand down his forehead, guilt making him queasy.

"But... You didn't mean to," Mickey said apprehensively. "You saved her life, she liked you, you wouldn't have hurt her on purpose." He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "And... And she knew that." The Doctor dropped his eyes again, trying to get himself under control. Mickey shouldn't have to deal with this, it wasn't his job to make the 900 year-old idiot feel better... "I mean, at least she died still hoping you'd come back," Mickey said quickly. "She knew you would and you _did_. So, so, she was right, you were gonna come back and she got to know that before..." Mickey trailed off, unsure of himself. His monologue wasn't helping, and he could tell.

"You... You couldn't just go back and see her again in the TARDIS?" The Doctor shook his head.

"Bad idea for the timeline," he mumbled. "Not after I've already been there when she died. There are some instances where it works, but not... not this one."

The Doctor shut his eyes, clinging to his tea mug, hunching in on himself. Why did he have to do that to her? Why did he have to hurt the people he traveled with, it seemed like he always did, it wasn't fair of him... And he hadn't even gotten Reinette on board the TARDIS before he messed up her life! Maybe it would be better if he stopped taking companions after this, people didn't deserve him in their lives, mucking things up. Oh, but he couldn't bear to do that, he couldn't, he was so lonely... Her lonely angel, and she'd seen into his _mind_...! He pressed a hand over his eyes desperately - if he didn't do something he was going to start crying again. He heard the scraping of a chair as Mickey stood up.

"I'll go get Rose," he said nervously. "I'm not good at this sort of - "

"No," the Doctor cut him off hoarsely. "No, don't do that, I'm fine."

"You're not fine!"

"Yes, I am!" the Doctor snarled, his voice breaking. Why had he agreed to make Mickey tea?

"I'm goin' to get Rose," Mickey said firmly.

"No, don't!" The Doctor's hand shot out and caught Mickey's sleeve, halting him with surprising strength. "Don't wake her up, please, she doesn't need this at this hour..." Oh, he was crying again... Tears were starting to slide unbidden down his cheeks, and he released his tea mug to wipe them off with his other hand. He didn't want to cry in front of Mickey. He sniffed reflexively and felt even more pathetic.

"Doctor," Mickey said helplessly. "What d'you want me to do, then?"

"Nothing," the Doctor muttered. "Just... go back to bed or... or whatever. It's fine. Sorry I bothered you." He stood up abruptly and headed for the door, belatedly remembering his hand on Mickey's sleeve and then letting go as if burned. He could feel Mickey's eyes following his back as he fled from the room.

"No. Wait," Mickey said suddenly, and the Doctor came to a reluctant halt at the door, rocking on his heels. "What... What are you gonna do, then?" The Doctor sighed, resisting the urge to wipe more tears off of his face. With his back to the room, at least Mickey couldn't see them.

"Tinker with the TARDIS," he mumbled in reply. "The, uh... scanning circuitry... could use some attention..."

"You couldn't... You don't need to go get some sleep or... or something?" Mickey was trying desperately to think of a way to help - the Doctor was oddly touched by the depth of his concern. He shook his head.

"Not a good idea for me, no."

"I just..." Mickey glanced around uncertainly behind the Doctor's back. His eyes fell on the dark green tea mug, and the design of delicate silver trees etched into the side of the porcelain. Something of his from home? Rose wouldn't tell him why they'd never visited the Doctor's planet, said it wasn't her place to tell, which meant it was something private, and, Mickey sensed, awful. There were plenty of unchipped cups in the cupboard. Mickey took a deep breath.

"Look, I know you're not okay. But I want you to be okay. I just don't know how to make that happen." The Doctor chuckled, sniffing again unavoidably.

"That's nice of you, Mickey, thanks."

"Do you... want a hug?"

The question was probably the most awkward one Mickey had asked all night. He sort of felt like an idiot saying it - Rose hugged the Doctor all the time, held his hand, and sat close to him, her legs brushing his and his arm around her. But Mickey didn't do that sort of thing with him at all. They weren't close like that, and the offer of a hug from him was probably the stupidest form of comfort he'd offered so far, he just hadn't known what else to do, and oh god, the Doctor's shoulder's were shaking, he was crying again, and what was he supposed to do now...? He wished he'd could've just gotten Rose...

But the Doctor was turning around to look at him again, and though tears still sparkled in his eyes, he was wearing a crooked, helpless smile. He was laughing, just a little, and he leaned against the doorjamb and looked back at Mickey with a tired warmth in his face.

"Yes," he said unexpectedly, nodding his head as if to confirm his decision. "Yes, Mickey Smith, I would like a hug."

He took a sudden step forward, spreading his arms wide, and, caught off guard but unable to do anything else, Mickey took a step toward him. The gap between them closed awkwardly, and Mickey started to carefully reach around the Doctor's shoulders, intending to give him the slow, supposed-to-be-comforting pats on the back. But to his surprise, the Doctor pulled him in close and wrapped his arms around him fiercely, clinging to him as if for dear life, burying his cheek into the crook of Mickey's neck as he had seen him do before with Rose. Mickey paused for a moment, shell-shocked, and then slowly began to return the hug, matching the strength of the Doctor's embrace as best as he was able.

It felt weird.

This sort of thing wasn't for him, it was reserved for Rose, she was the one the Doctor was close to, _he_ wasn't... Well, he just wasn't the go-to companion for hugs. But, well, maybe he was right now, just for a moment. He hugged the Doctor a little tighter, and then gave up on resisting the impulse and patted a hand gently against the alien shoulder blades. The Doctor was cool rather than warm, and tall, and incredibly, unreasonably skinny. After several seconds of holding tight he sighed gratefully, and then slowly disentangled himself from Mickey's arms.

"Thanks," he said, smiling. He sniffed again, but the tears had stopped leaking out of his eyes.

"Uh... No problem," Mickey said stoutly. The Doctor chuckled and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"You give good hugs," he said kindly. "I feel better. Thank you," he said again.

"Yeah, no problem," Mickey said, a bit more casually. And it wasn't a problem, it was good that he'd made the Doctor feel better. Him, the Tin Dog, comforting the centuries-old alien. He'd always been rubbish at comfort, among other things, but maybe time-space travel was doing some good for him.

...And suddenly he thought of something to say.

"You know," Mickey said slowly, "You're a good influence." The Doctor's brow crinkled as he gave him a confused look. "You. On people. I know I was mad about losing Rose, as my girlfriend you know, and I mean, I'm still not happy about that..." He paused as the Doctor scratched the back of his neck guiltily. "But... I've never seen her so confident before, so sure of herself. So... tough and excited and ready for anything. And so happy. She was never like that before you. It's traveling with you, that's where she gets it. You... you help people. You make them better." He glanced around nervously, a little embarrassed by his speech. The Doctor just stared at him solemnly, his expression unreadable.

And then that crooked smile tugged a little at one corner of his lips, and he said quietly,

"Thank you, Mickey. But... you see, well..." He licked his lips. "My companions... They make me better, too."

He flashed a quick grin and spun on his heel to leave again.

"Goodnight, Mickey. Sleep well. I'll be in the console room if you need anything."

"Right. Uh, thanks for the tea!" Mickey called after him as he disappeared beyond the kitchen door. Mickey looked over at the abandoned mugs on the table again and smiled.

Not so much of a Tin Dog anymore then, now was he?

The Doctor strode along the corridors toward the console room, wiping his cheeks clean with the edge of his sleeve. He still felt guilty about Reinette, he'd always feel a little guilty from now on when he thought about her - but he also remembered her smile when he'd spun through the fireplace into her room, remembered the frightened little girl that he'd chased the monsters away from, and the warm, regal woman he'd protected, who was clever enough to move her fireplace and to show him the quick path home. He had helped her - and then failed her, but even so she'd still loved him. Like all of his companions seemed to, even as he lost them. He must have done _something_ right...

He stepped into the console room and moved to the heart of his beloved TARDIS, reaching under the grating to retrieve his tool chest, and lavish love over his one constant and forever companion.

He cracked another smile.

_He made people better._

It would have to be enough.

**The End**

* * *

I wrote half of this a long time ago, and then finished it very recently. Not sure what brought it into my mind in the first place, but I like the idea of Mickey having to try to make the Doctor feel better instead of Rose. Hope you enjoyed - review if you've a mind. Thanks.


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